


Vitality

by PutItBriefly



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PutItBriefly/pseuds/PutItBriefly
Summary: “It is your belief this Sesshoumaru understands you.” It is a statement, emphatically not a question, but Rin reads wondering in his words anyway.“Of course! Do you want to know the secret of how I know?”Lord Sesshoumaru does not answer.
Relationships: Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 244





	Vitality

“Lord Sesshoumaru, how does the grass smell?”

He does not acknowledge the question. That’s all right. She had not thought he would. Even Master Jaken, who usually takes it upon himself to address that which their lord neglects, appears perplexed.

“To you, I mean,” Rin continues nonetheless. “I know how it smells to _me._ Nature is full of vitality, isn’t it?” From Kaede’s hut, a dull thing fashioned from wood and straw and rocks that would be beautiful had they been left alone, they had walked across a log bridge, through mowed grass, past the flooded rice paddies and into the forest. The first thing Rin did was kick off her straw sandals. They hang hooked over fingers that are scarcely interested in carrying them by the toe post. She may drop them ere long. The forest floor feels differently now than how it used to. Her feet have lost their calluses over the years. Every jagged edge of rock comes with a brief sting. Time enough ought to fix that.

The forest is free from purposeful cultivation. It grows according to its own needs. Grass, flowers, weeds—except here they are not weeds, because here no one decides what is wanted and what is not—moss and open patches of dirt, tree roots she must watch for lest she trip, stones and fallen sticks and branches all grow and die and change or stay the same for their own satisfaction alone.

Rin eyes the ground, seriously considering throwing herself upon it for the sheer joy of doing so.

It has been nearly a decade (eternity to her, a moment, no doubt, to them), but Master Jaken can still recognize her impending surrender to whimsy. “Rin,” he pleads, exhausted already though she’s only been with them perhaps the full dragon hour, “show a little decorum.”

She smiles and refrains. “A very little, Master Jaken.”

* * *

At the hour of the rooster, they stop and make camp. The cooking fire crackles and she loves the _sound_ of it. Rin shivers with delight as she watches the billowing smoke rise. Her stomach growls at the scent of fish. She stretches her arms out in front of her and follows at the dancing shadows of her hands on the ground. When dinner is done, the fish’s skin is crisp and its flesh falls apart in her mouth.

Lord Sesshoumaru does not eat fish. Rather, Rin has never seen him do so. Should he ever stay at camp while she and Master Jaken cook, she will offer to make him something. But she anticipates he will disappear deeper into the woods alone every evening. That is what he used to do and so far, he is precisely how she remembers him.

She wonders if he goes because the smell of their food turns his stomach, or perhaps he is off to gather whatever it is he _does_ eat. He says he does not eat what humans eat, and she wonders if that means he favors tastes and textures and things she would not consider edible at all. It hasn’t escaped her notice that all the demons in Inuyasha’s village like human food.

Oh, well.

Maybe the hour of the dog is just his alone time.

* * *

The following day, Rin becomes distracted. Living with Kaede, she had learned rather a lot about midwifery and medicine. She’s nigh certain the herbs she sees growing at the base of a tree can be used to make an analgesic salve. If right, it would be useful. Rin crouches down, snaps the stem of one plant and spreads the leaves across her palm.

She has become too accustomed to gardens. When one knows precisely what was planted and everything is laid out in perfect little rows, it is very easy to identify plants. Rin examines the leaves—their shape, their color, the size of their veins and the edge of each leaf and she is just not as sure as she would like to be. 

Rin hopes reliance on farming has not eroded her ability to identify what is good for eating in the forest.

A short internal debate ensues, and in the end, she picks the herbs. If she’s wrong, the worst that will happen is a topical pain killer that doesn’t work.

“Stop dawdling, Rin!” Master Jaken waves his staff in the air, jumps up and down. “Has Lord Sesshoumaru proven to you yet that you are not vital? He shall leave us behind!”

“So we’ll catch up,” she says.

And they do.

* * *

The night is silent when she wakes. Rin lies very still, listening. The forest ought to be alive with the sounds of nocturnal animals.

It’s eerie.

She opens her eyes and fixes them on a tree root by her head, willing her sight to adjust to the darkness. When it has, she sits up cautiously and looks around. A-Un and Master Jaken are asleep.

A few feet away sits Lord Sesshoumaru. He leans against a tree. Silly animals, frightened from their business by a great demon in the campsite. From here, Rin can’t tell if he is awake or sleeping. Lord Sesshoumaru is not lying down, but that does not necessarily indicate anything.

Rin stands.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Aren’t you lonely being awake when everyone else is sleeping?”

Lord Sesshoumaru does not answer.

 _“I’d_ be lonely,” Rin says. She picks her away across the campsite on just her toes, granting extra care because she cannot see the hidden dangers of rocks and tree roots. “I’ll keep you company.”

He relents. “Do as you wish.”

Satisfied, Rin sits down beside him. The night is dark, and unnaturally quiet, and it would not take much to convince her that no one else in the entire world exists but the two of them. Given the hour and the pervasive aura of restfulness, there is not a soul who could fault her for silence. But there is a bubble in her throat that bobs and rises and tells her to speak. “It was lonely in the village.”

“You had company.”

“Yes, but—you know, it’s much lonelier being surrounded by lots of people who don’t understand you than being with one person who does.”

“It is your belief this Sesshoumaru understands you.” It is a statement, emphatically not a question, but Rin reads wondering in his words anyway.

“Of course! Do you want to know the secret of how I know?”

Lord Sesshoumaru does not answer.

“It is because only Lord Sesshoumaru says _‘you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’”_ She looks up and admires how the stars peer down on them through gaps in the tree branches. “I do want to,” Rin confesses, “but I didn’t feel that way until I met you.”

The starlight makes his armor glint just enough to be seen. His silver hair shines. The bright, perfect white of his sleeves is easy to see in the darkness. Rin knows his hands are fisted on his knees because his pant legs are bright, too, but there is one dim spot on each.

“How well can you see in the dark?”

“Well.”

“Is it different from daytime?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Lord Sesshoumaru considers and finally answers, “It is what it is.”

Rin has a million more questions, but of course, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to. He has spoken to her a lot tonight. Pressing him for more of himself that he’s willing to give would not be a good way to show him how terribly she has missed him. But she is bold and insatiable and Rin picks up the fist clenched on his right knee in both of her hands. She marvels as he allows her to uncurl each of his fingers. His hand is larger than hers, the skin paler, his claws longer than her fingernails could ever grow. Venom is produced by his claws and though she knows he does not just leak it in perpetuity, she’s still careful to restrict her exploration to the soft pads of his finger tips. Rin slides her left palm against his right. Their fingers interlock.

Rin admires how well they fit.

She traces the red lines on his forearm with her pointer finger. She can’t perceive a difference in texture between the striped and unstriped portions of his skin. Had she not known they were there, Rin wouldn’t be able to find them by feel.

She gets up, and he doesn’t. Their hands fall away from each other. Rin doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to demand more than he’s offering, but Lord Sesshoumaru has always encouraged her to do as she wished. 

She wonders where the line is.

She wonders if there is one.

Rin kneels down, face to face with him, not that she can see his face as well as she knows he can see hers. “I want,” she announces in a whisper, “to touch your hair.”

Lord Sesshoumaru gives her the answer she expected, which is, “Do as you wish.”

It’s like reaching into running water. His hair is smooth and cold and she’s always wondered why it isn’t horribly tangled or snagging on his armor and now she has her answer. Lord Sesshoumaru is a sublime creature, almost beyond her comprehension for all she knows in her soul that they are kindred spirits. His hair does not _tangle._

Her fingers, without express permission and entirely of their own accord, cup the back of his neck. Her thumb strokes the lines of his cheek again and again.

Her heart is pounding.

She knows he can hear it.

Her breathing is so labored she can hear it and she holds her breath hoping she might be able to hear his. (She can’t.)

Rin licks her lips.

Rin begins to speak except perhaps it is more of a sigh. “I want—”

“Rin!” Master Jaken squawks. “Unhand your lord this instant!”

It is not obedience but embarrassment that causes her to recoil. Master Jaken is not, she well knows, a reputable authority on much of anything, but in this instance he is quite correct. She had been manhandling her lord.

Even her human eyes can see the brilliancy of his white sleeves as they billow. She hears something collide with something else and Master Jaken’s cry of pain and betrayal. (Rin concludes reasonably that Lord Sesshoumaru has thrown a rock at Master Jaken’s head.)

Which, incidentally, leads her to conclude that she had not been asking more of her lord than he was eager to give.

However, the spell she was under is thoroughly broken. Rin stands and brushes the dirt from her knees. Hopefully, the salve she made will work.

“Master Jaken,” Rin advises as she applies ointment to the impressive goose egg on the little demon’s head, “The next time you see two people who have been pining for each other about to kiss, show a little decorum and leave.”

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself, "Inuyasha is a very unrealistic show, no need to do historical research" and within three days was looking up traditional Japanese time keeping, so. You know. There's that.


End file.
